


Swordplay

by Gilje



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Realization, Sanji breaks his own rules, Sexual Frustration, also a perv nothing new, pining!Sanji, sanji's in trouble, storage sex, sword kink, wet fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4522515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilje/pseuds/Gilje
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moska: ”Zoro was cleaning one of his swords in the middle of the deck and Sanji was watching him from the kitchen through a window, and getting turned on by the thought of Zoro touching his cock like that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swordplay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoskaFleur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoskaFleur/gifts).



> Prompt from Moskafleur from tumblr.   
> I love writing smut and troubled Sanji, so I couldn't resist.

 

Well it was definitely too hot inside.   
Sanji draped the freshly dampened, and dripping we kitchen clotch around his neck and sighed. He didn’t have a thermometer inside, but if he had to guess, it was at least 40 degrees inside, or anywhere, even in shade. It didn’t really help that he had to close the door and windows as well, since the humidity made everyone on deck lazy and unmotivated, driving their Captain to sneak inside several times in an attempt to try and eat away his boredom.

Even the green haired swordsman was taking a break of his hideously superhuman training – due to Chopper’s persuasion, since anyone else’s attempt was doomed to futility, thought the cook with a bitter taste in his mouth. Now he was just chilling in the middle of the deck under the shadow of the main mast and idly cleaning his swords, green coat discarded beside him.

The cook sighed and wiped his forehead, watching the green haired moron getting his moss roasted. He was the only one of the crew who rejected the refreshing caress of the cool sea or the aquarium’s tank below deck. Sanji himself didn’t count, being on meal duty as per usual. But how could somebody, who actually had a chance, choose to boil in his own sweat over swimming?!

Sanji continued to watch the idiot. Not like he  planned wathing the idiot, he just kind of caught on the habit. Way back at the Merry’s tiny kitchen, where his limited source of natural light was right above the preparing area, the small window opened to the hidden deck where the swordsman held his daily routine. And during the past year, he’d just somehow gotten used to Zoro’s presence, the small gasps and deep growls escaping from his chest, the way his body bent as he prepared himself for another round of workouts.

Sanji didn’t mind watching Zoro stretch. The way his back muscles jumped, or when he bent down. He didn’t mind the glistening sweat running down the rough tan skin, the way it dampened the hem of the lowly clinging pants. The sharp hipbones. The small visible dimples just above the hem of his pants or the rippling, heaving abs the swordsman scratched occasionally, staring at the waist ocean.

Breaking his own rule, Sanji lit a cigarette. He still remembered the day his body told him just how much it doesn’t mind the swordsman’s presence.

_It was still their first year in Luffy’s crew when one morning, while he was preparing the stew for lunch, instead of the usual noises there were soft ’thumps’ and ’squeaks’ coming from outside, so curiously, the cook stepped aside from the oven and peeked out the window. There, in the soft morning light, was the swordsman. His skin was already shining with a light layer of sweat, utter determination on his face. He seemed to be thinking about something and Sanji was almost aroused from the sight  when the swordsman’s body twisted, moving arms adding to the of the momentum of the movement and his legs left the ground and drew a long, powerful kick in the air._  
  


_Sanji’s breath hitched in his throat but the mosshead didn’t seem to notice anything as he continued the practice. The movements were something he must have picked up from his fighting style, but the swordsman had mixed it with some other martial art he’d learned before. It clearly wasn’t his usual fighting style, leaving too much opening and not reaching high enough, but nonetheless – or maybe because of its oddity – fascinating to the eyes._

_Sanji’s mouth felt dry, and his face hot despite the mild March temperatures. Zoro shifted and moved, hands touching the ground from time to time, powerful hips twisting his legs in mid-air. It looked like a very aggressive, lethal dance and goddammit, Sanji wanted to try it out, driving against that tight and flexing body on display every goddamn day, experiencing the new rhythm,  enjoying the rush of adrenaline in his veins, legs against legs, kicking and pushing and touching that sweaty, salty, flushed, dark skinned body with everything he had._

_Sanji paused suddenly, his hips coming to a halt against the wooden side of the kitchen counter. While his mind was far away, his body had started to act on its own, grinding his hard erection against it, trying to find pleasure and relief. Sanji backed away in shock and slight mortification._

_The second thing that hit his senses, was a strong smell of burning food coming from the pots. The cook let out an ungodly shriek and fled to the remains of the stew, trying to save what was possible._

_They ate pasta for lunch that day._

Sanji blew out the smoke of his cigarette, surfacing from the memories while his eyes were still glued to the green-haired man with his lovingly moving hands as he cleaned the swords with patience. The metal was already gleaming and the light catched on them brightly. The swordsman still didn’t look satisfied as he moved his hand up the length once again, slowly and steadily.

Sanji let out a soft grunt and ran a hand down the front of his pants, fingers caressing against the building pressure. The cook hissed – even through the layers of cloth, he felt sensitive and ready, aching for the swordsman’s touch. The same touch which was haunting his nights in the past years.

The swordsman stopped his movements and examined the blade, close to his face, blowing at something and smiling appreciatively.  
God it was torture. Sanji closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing as his right had slid under the hem of his pants, picturing it was the swordsman hand touching his cock, his fingers wrapped around Sanji’s length and blowing against the wet precome he already felt on his fingertips. He shouldn’t break his own two principal rules on the same day goddamnit. He’d sworn not to use the new ship’s pantry the same way he had the Merry’s storeroom.

Sanji opened his eyes and saw that Zoro was sheathing Wado and let out a relived sigh. Maybe if he can’t see the swordsman’s movements he’d be able to regain his composure and not cream himself. Damn him and his overworking libido. And damn the shitty marimo for making a complete wreck out of him, unintended or not.

But before wado’s saya could click shut, the swordsman noticed something, and unsheathed her once again.   
Sanji let his head fall back and bit his lower lip to muffle a grunt. His fly was already open and only the button of his trousers held back his movements. He looked out again at the swordsman who was rubbing at something at the base of the blade with harder movements, a frown on his face and just that was enough to make the cook straighten up and fly towards the pantry’s door, fingers wrapped around himself and mind full of Zoro’s hot velvety smooth mouth and tongue, cursing on the way. 

He could already see himself breaking his own rules numerous times in the future.

 

 


End file.
